


All the Little Pieces

by MidKnight2501



Series: If this is hell, well then, I'm lucky [2]
Category: Prometheus (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-18
Updated: 2012-06-18
Packaged: 2017-11-08 01:12:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidKnight2501/pseuds/MidKnight2501
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompted from the kinkmeme: Shaw manages to reconnect David's head to his body. He's very grateful and proves it. First-time fic, please. </p><p>Two months on a ship is long enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Little Pieces

She manages to get David's shirtless- it had been easier to remove with him laying on the floor- body into the command chair of the alien ship. It's hard work- his body is made of heavier stuff than hers and he keeps twitching randomly- for half a second his hand wrapped around her wrist just a little too hard- she'd yelped and he'd let go. From behind her, on the console-

“Sorry.” David says.

“It's fine.” She knows he can't quite control it. Shaw still isn't sure she can totally trust him, but they've been on the ship for two months now and he's been perfectly behaved. Talked her through the flute and the green laser waves of the navigation system, helped her find what passes for the Captain's cabin, explained how the lights work. His body slumps forward in the chair and she has to brace it up with her knees- she's sitting on the console and grabs for the edge of it, and his shoulder to keep from falling back. Shaw huffs a bit and finally has to sort of brace him between her knees, against his armpits. It puts the gaping hole of his throat right in the light from the console.

Lit like this it's more a mess than she liked. “You know I'm not good at this sort of thing.” Shaw says to him, turning to look at his head. 

David looks like he trusts her. He doesn’t have much choice, really. They are the only ones on the ship and there's a long way to go and he's the closest thing to the last human she'll ever see. “You spent a summer on an archaeological dig on the Isle of Skye- I'm sure your touch is delicate enough, Doctor Shaw.” 

She shrugs and looks to the tools they have- David had brought a few things with him in his utility belt and they'd found a few more while scavenging the ship. There's only five or six actual tools and one of them looks like a Lego disconnector. There's even a needle and some kind of mono-filament thread- it glows off and on, like the smallest version of EL wire she's ever seen. 

“Ok. What should I do first?” Shaw asks. 

It takes a long time. First she has to clean the open wound- not that he'll get an infection- but there are particles in there, little bits of rock and dirt. She can't waste the water and has to dig around with her fingers and her short nails, slowly putting the little white bobbles back inside, once they're clean. 

“We don't have to connect all of these, do we?” She asks, without looking over. Her hands are dripping with his white blood. 

“No, they'll reconnect on their own. Hopefully.” David doesn't have a lot of tones but the more time she's spent with him the more she can tell them apart. He sounds worried. “They should. Hold that green wire-”

She grabs it, holds it aside. 

“There should be a blue one, too.” He tells her. It takes some digging around in the mass of while bobbles to find it- it's torn quite a bit and David sighs when he sees it. “I was worried about that...” 

“What?” Shaw asks, turning to look at his head. His expression is carefully blank. He's scared. 

“The wires might have... disconnected, further in.” David admits. Shaw looks back to the wound, the white blood, the little things dripping out of it in strings. The wound isn't big enough to get her hand in, not without making a bigger mess and honestly she's a little scared to reach all the way down in there. 

“How do we fix that?” 

“We can't.” David says. 

“Is there anyway to check if they're disconnected?” 

“Not until everything is reattached.” David admits. His right hand flaps around nervously, then holds onto her ankle. For a moment Shaw doesn't like him touching her- it's so strange after two months alone on a ship. It sucks all the air out of her lungs, that touch. She doesn't tell him to let go. They're both scared, she realizes. 

She holds the wires aside, finds the violet wire and the red, holds them aside too. Thankfully, oddly, it looks like his spinal cord sort of snaps together, a sort of slotted disc assembly. Propping him up with her knees, holding his head with both hands- it's awkward as fuck and his white blood is everywhere, soaking through her jumpsuit, dripping down her elbows. He's watching her, while she tries to slot his spine back together- it finally clicks and they both let out a held breath. 

Two hours later she's got all the little wires connected, stripped and spliced as well as she can. David is still propped up with her knees and her thighs are burning with the strain. 

“Test it.” Shaw says.

“No. Not yet.” David replies. “Sew me up.” 

“But if I have to reconnect something-” 

David’s hand flaps around again. “You won’t be able to fix it anyway. Just sew me up.” 

She gives up and starts sewing. The thread, if it’s thread, glows where it intersects his skin. It’s pretty, like the lights of the control panel. David’s expression is still worryingly neutral, while she works. 

“Can you feel that?” Elizabeth finally asks, turning a little, trying to keep him propped up and sew the back part. The synthetic skin is going together almost seamlessly- it must be the material because she’s certainly not that good at mending. 

“Only on my head.” David answers and that worries her.

“Not your shoulders?” She asks. Shit. She must not have connected the wires right, or there’s more damage inside than she thought. 

“Don’t worry, Doctor Shaw- I’ll have to reboot to perform a diagnostic. At the moment the lack of feeling is nothing to worry about. And my shoulders don’t hurt.” 

She pauses with the needle half in his skin. “Does your head? The sewing?” 

“It feels…” He thinks about it for a long time. Elizabeth goes back to sewing, waiting on his answer. “T. E. Lawrence would say the trick is not minding that it hurts.” If it all goes well he should have use of his body again. There will probably be tremors caused by a bad connection, or perhaps David will be too damaged to move at all. If he can move on his own then Shaw will have someone to explore the massive ship with, someone who can back her in a fight if the rest of the Engineers turn out to be as violent as the first. 

“I didn’t know you studied history.” She says, suddenly. 

His head tilts to the side, just a little, like a shrug. “There was a movie in the Prometheus’ archives.” 

Elizabeth sews over the knob on the back of his spine- she tries not to look down the length of his back, at the white drips, at his skin. It’s a lot of skin. His hair is soft against her inner arms and where she touches him- skin to skin- he’s warm. Just like a real human. She reaches the back of his right shoulder and meets where she began sewing. The thread looks like a glowing necklace now. 

“Did you like it?” She asks, tying the thread off. 

“I watched it 187 times.” David admits. 

That must be a yes. Abruptly she notices his roots against the back of his neck. “David?” He makes a noise. “Do you dye your hair?” 

“Yes.” He says, like it’s nothing strange. “Lawrence is blond.” 

Oh, god, it’s like a man crush. Only it’s a robot doing it. Elizabeth stares at the back of his neck for a second, at the thread and the blood, and tries to remember he killed her boyfriend as a science experiment. She wants to be angry, but she isn’t. She needs him. And it feels like forever ago- distance and time wise. 

Elizabeth cuts the thread and pushes David up, until he’s sitting more or less upright between her knees, still too limp to sit on his own. It’s a very animated, alive head on a very relaxed body. One of the feet at tapping against the console but she can’t see which. 

“Alright?” She asks. 

David has a far away look in his eyes. She doesn’t know if he’s still thinking about Lawrence or doing the diagnostic he’d mentioned. 

“Checking.” He admits and slowly struggles to his feet. He’s wobbly like a new born calf or a drunk and she still has to brace him with her legs, hands on his shoulders to keep him upright. For a long second it seems like he’ll keep his feet and then David pitches forward, almost pinning her to the console. 

“David!” Elizabeth tries to push him off but there’s no doing that. At least he’s got his hands braced against the console too, keeping most of his weight off of her. If she pushes him aside he’s going to collapse to the floor, somewhere between the command chair and the console and it will be a lot of work to get him out. 

“Sorry, Doctor Shaw. My gyroscopic balance appears to be off.” He makes an irritated buzzing noise, something much more computer than human and she can almost feel something clicking in his chest cavity. “I need to reboot. It should take only thirty seconds.” David doesn’t wait for her to say anything, merely locks his arms in place against the console and suddenly he’s no longer there. The face is asleep, even the EL wire is off. He doesn’t breathe and the thing in his chest that makes the heartbeat sound is off. Even the clicking has stopped. He looks innocent. Harmless. 

She counts, gets to thirty, and there’s still nothing. For a moment she panics, thinking that maybe it didn’t work, nothing reconnected, and there will be a robot pinning her to the console forever, until she dies. Elizabeth pushes at him in a panic and suddenly David sucks in a breath. His eyes snap open and he looks around in shock. 

Slowly the heartbeat noise starts up, then the clicking- it’s almost a ratcheting now. 

“You didn’t make that sound before.” She points out and David’s eyes slowly focus on her- gray and blue and very close. 

“I am reconnecting the other wires.” David admits. He takes some of his weight off of her, joints slowly popping, muscles flexing. It’s a little unnerving because she can tell it’s not him doing it. It's the diagnostic. He rolls his head against his shoulders- she’s scared it might fall off- and his neck cracks just like a normal human’s. David leans farther back, onto his own two legs and his own balance, and holds up his left hand- there is no tremor- and the makes a fist several times, flexing and wiggling the fingers. They’re very long and pale and strong looking, Elizabeth notices suddenly. “Ahhh.” He actually sighs. “All better.” 

“No damage?” She asks. 

He shrugs- it’s weird seeing all of him move, after two months. “I was built to disarticulate with the least amount of damage to my more important systems. You saw the spine.” 

Elizabeth nods. 

“You are very trusting.” David says, suddenly and all the air goes out of the room. Elizabeth sits there and stares at him. 

“We’re the only two left.” She points out.

He nods. “And both of the people who had administrator access to my programming are dead.” 

Weyland and probably Vickers, she guesses. David doesn’t really have to do what she says, not the way he would have to if they said it. 

“You didn’t have to do this.” He presses a hand over the stitches around his throat and they flicker faintly. She’s a little scared, but it’s not as if they’re not heading to their deaths already. “You shouldn’t trust me. After what I did on the Prometheus.”  
She nods. She can feel the sweat gathering against her lower back.

“But I’m…” David struggles for the word. “Flattered you did.” Elizabeth wonders if it will hurt when he kills her. 

“David-“ 

He smiles. “There are a lot of people out there who have always gone out of their way to show me how inhuman I am, how beneath them. Meredith always let me know my place. And your Holloway only scratched the surface of some of the things I have heard.” David’s hand catches hold of hers, pulls it away from his shoulder- her bones are so fragile compared to his, her fingers so small. Her hands are still dripping with his blood and he strokes a thumb over the back of her hand, so very gentle. Elizabeth keeps sucking in small breaths, waiting. David ducks his head a little and presses a very chase kiss to her knuckles, almost nuzzling them, like a cat. “Thank you.” 

“For?” She almost gasps, tries to act normal. 

David blinks, slowly. “Treating me like a person.” He sets her hand down on her knee and carefully steps away. There’s still so much skin showing and they’re both almost dripping with his blood. “I will try not to disappoint you in the future.” There’s no one left to program him to betray her. David sighs and looks down at his pants, at the dirt and white blood on them. 

She hops down, slips in the blood on the floor, grabs for the rim of the console and David catches her around the waist before she can hit the floor. Now her face is pressed right against all of that skin. She can hear his not-heart beating against her cheek. 

“Careful.” David rumbles, hands gentle against her back. 

“What are you going to do when you run out of blood?” Elizabeth asks, then wonders why that was what came out of her mouth. 

“I won’t run out. I can make more.” He reassures her. His hands are so big even just one of them splays all the way across her lower back, pressing her cold sweat into her skin. It shocks a gasp from her- more than the feel of all his skin against her does. Or so she tells herself.

“David?” Elizabeth finally says, voice shaking, after a minute. He brushes his chin against the top of her head, against her temple. He feels very human right now, breathing, touching her. 

“I wanted to... Thank you.” He says, still holding her. 

“You already did.” Elizabeth pointed out. Her right hand is pressed to his bare chest, right beside her head. Her fingers are shaking. 

“I meant something else.” David rumbles, voice low and meaningful. 

“I don't-” She starts to say, then stops. “You don't-” 

“Of course I don't.” David admits. “No one ordered me to.” He's still rubbing his chin against her temple, voice lower now. “I would still like to. If you want...?” 

“This isn't a good idea.” Shaw tells him. Jesus, what is she thinking? They're a million, billion miles from Earth, from any human being, heading into the darkness of space, looking for what will probably be their deaths on some strange world. In front of her eyes the wire in his throat blinks softly, like fireflies. Like magic. She touches it without thinking and he makes a little gasping noise. It feels like thread to her, but his head rolls back, until he’s staring at the ceiling.

“That doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” David asks. 

She realizes that’s true. “Alright.” Elizabeth admits and his hands get a little tighter on her. Charlie is dead. The rest of the crew is dead. Charlie’s ring winks at her from it’s place on her finger, on her hand, on David’s chest. David pushes her back, over the slick on the floor, until she’s backed into the console again. His hands are tight on her hips, warm through the fabric of her suit. 

His fingers shake a little when he reaches up for the zipper- even as he’s unzipping her, as she’s gasping for breath just a little- he’s watching her with those too calm eyes. Watching everything. The blue fabric parts slowly, his fingers trailing over the curve of her breasts, down the flat of her stomach. The staples still wink faintly from her skin, but it’s nothing like the ring of lights around his throat. Elizabeth looks down, follows the path of his fingers on her- David leans just a little closer and she looks up- they almost kiss, sharing a breath, but David doesn’t lean in any farther and she doesn’t lean up. She just tightens her hand on his shoulder, pretending she can’t see Charlie’s ring. 

They haven’t really done anything and she’s already gasping for air. It’s never been this hushed, this intense before. David’s hands are soft on her skin as he works the suit over her shoulders, trapping her arms a second. He steps closer, bracketing her with his body until she pushes up onto the edge of the console- David smiles and steps even closer, pressing his body between her thighs. His hands are careful on her skin, working the sleeve over her hand, caressing her fingers.

He lifts her hand and presses another kiss, this time to the palm, eyes watching her hungrily. 

“David-“ 

He smiles against her hand. When he lets go Elizabeth grabs onto his shoulder again, trying to hold onto anything. She’s been with half a dozen men in her life. None of them have treated her like this. Worshiped her. David works the sleeve down her other arm, thumb rubbing against her bicep, over the pointed bone of her elbow- this time he presses a kiss to her inner wrist, ignoring the blood smeared there. 

“Yes? Elizabeth?” David finally asks, a little mischievously, and he begins working the fabric down around her hips, thumbs just touching her wrapped underwear. 

“Please-“ She almost wants him to stop. Charlie was never like this, and he was human, in a hurry, pushy.

“Up.” He orders and she braces her hands on his shoulders, lifts up and he slides her suit out from under her. The console isn’t cold, but it’s not warm either, against the back of her thighs. He leaves her boots on, at least, cool eyes flickering over her as he drops her suit onto the command chair. David drops to his knees suddenly, still pushing her into the console with his shoulders. 

That shocks a gasp out of her too- Holloway so rarely did this- and David looks so happy to be doing it. He presses a kiss to the inside of her right knee, sighs against it, his blond hair brushing against her skin. 

“David-” 

His eyes flicker up to her, so pale in the light of the console, and he slides his mouth up the inside of her thigh. David's fingers unfasten the row of snaps along the side of her underwear, then open them- above all that pale skin his fingers ghost over the scar across her stomach. 

He buries his face between her thighs before she can say anything, hitching her knees over his shoulders. Elizabeth shrieks at the sensations- too much after all this time. Her hands claw at the console trying to keep upright and then David grabs her hands, pulling them to his shoulders and hair-

“Mind the controls.” He chides, then bites her hip, just a little. 

“Oh my god.” Elizabeth sighs, petting his hair- David hums a little, licks her open, pushes her thighs wider. There's only a few little things she can remember after that- how David's hair feels in her hands, the muscles shifting in his back, the way he keeps pleasuring her, keeps going even after she's come three times. “David, David- please- David-”

He looks up, laughter in his eyes. “Please?” He asks and scrubs the back of his hand across his mouth. Elizabeth's legs flop open of their own accord, her feet twitching, toes still curling against her will. She's still holding onto the back of his neck, maybe a little too tight, but she pulls him up by the grip. His knees are stained with his white blood from the floor but he comes up off the floor easy as anything- Elizabeth keeps gasping for air, still shaking, and pulls him close. David holds her, arms cradling her back, petting her. 

“Oh god.” She finally says and David laughs, just a little, a little tiny rumble where her cheek presses to his chest. 

“That was satisfactory, then?” David asks, after a minute. It shocks her. 

“What-” Elizabeth has to push him back a little, seeing nothing but curiosity in his face, despite what's pushing against her inner thigh. David doesn't seem to care or notice about his own body. “'Satisfactory'?” 

He nods. “Miss Vickers always said I needed work.” He admits it like it's nothing. Like the woman wasn't practically his sister, one of the people who could program him. 

“Oh my god.” 

David's head cocks to the side, confused. “Does that upset you?” 

“Did you even want to... do that to her?” Elizabeth asks. 

“Not... particularly.” David says. His hands are still petting her, gentling her. “I didn't mind it.” 

“But you wanted to- with me?” She still can't make it make any sense. 

He nods, looking pleased. “You've always treated me like a person. You trust me.” David touches the edge of her jaw, very gently, with two fingers. “You liked it.” He sums up. 

“What about you?” Elizabeth asks. He blinks very slowly.

“Me?” He sounds baffled and that makes her smile, surprising him. She strokes a hand down his chest, over the stitches, between the muscles and cups him in her palm. For a second he shivers, head rocking back on his shoulders just a little. “Oh god.” 

“Come on.” Elizabeth says, reaching for his utility belt. David looks at her like she's gone insane- there even looks like there's a faint blush on his cheeks. 

“You- you'd let me-” David can't finish the sentence for once and Elizabeth laughs this time, then her hand freezes, with his pants half open.

“You haven't...?” She asks, watches him bite his lip. He looks ashamed, more than he had when he'd admitted to what Miss Vickers had done. 

“I'm not real.” David says, and she can almost hear him quoting her. That cast iron bitch, she thinks, and remembers how the flame thrower looked in her hands. “I don't deserve...” He shudders as she finishes opening his pants. “Elizabeth-” He sounds shocked. She pushed the pants down over his hips, then his boxer briefs- his skin is pale everywhere, even here. There's no flush, just hard skin and muscle, a straining cock that looks real- just as real as any she's seen, just it's as pale as the rest of him. She wraps a hand around him, struggles because her hands are so small and he's quite bit. “Oh, god- Elizabeth-” David shudders in her arms, ducks his head and presses his forehead into her shoulder, licks up the line of her throat. “Please-” 

This time he's the one begging. It makes her smile. She hunches her hips up on the console, pulls him closer- she rubs his cock against her, where she's already wet from his mouth. David groans from somewhere deep inside his chest- he slips in suddenly and she hooks her knees around his hips, fitting them together. David keeps gasping against her ear, the side of her throat- he's shaking, she notices. He starts thrusting, just a little, and it's too much- them in space, her taking whatever virginity he might have, how raw and sensitive she is after what he'd already done to her. Elizabeth comes all the sudden, clenching down on him, digging her nails into his shoulders. 

“David, David-” She keeps moaning and he hold her close, still rocking into her. He grabs her around the waist, holding her knees to his chest with his arms, and thrusts harder, pressing harder into her- Moans keep slipping out of her, against her will, every time he touches her just right. She's dizzy, holding him close, gasping into his throat.

“Oh god-” David groans and shudders, hips stuttering.

They cling to each other for a long time, breathing hard. Space is slipping by outside, leaving the past behind. She strokes a hand down his back and David leans closer, closer than two people should be. 

“Elizabeth-” He sighs and she tips her head up, trying to catch his mouth in a kiss. It seems silly not to, now. He freezes when their lips touch- shakes against her a little, but he doesn't kiss back. When she pulls back he looks startled, eyes so wide-

“What?” Elizabeth asks. 

“I haven't done that either.” He admits and touches his bottom lip in surprise.


End file.
